


paint and promises

by gothyringwald



Series: state of the heart (harringrove tumblr fic) [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Developing Relationship, Homophobic Language, M/M, Minor Violence, Protectiveness, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 19:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: Tommy sees something he shouldn't and decides to let all of Hawkins know via the medium of graffiti. Billy doesn't appreciate Tommy's choice of words so he confronts Tommy, taking matters into his own hands.AKA Tommy spray paints something mean about Steve. Billy finds out and beats him up.





	paint and promises

**Author's Note:**

> Another tumblr prompt fic! This time for the prompt 'Who did this?' I've had the idea of Billy beating Tommy up after Tommy spray paints something about Steve for a while and the prompt finally gave me the motivation (though it's a very different fic than I'd originally thought of). [Here's the fic on tumblr.](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/173368236115/13-2nd-drabble-list-harringrove-ps-youre)
> 
> The homophobic language isn't from either Steve or Billy.

'Who did this?' Billy asks as he stalks toward Tommy and Carol, jerking his head at the wall above them. They're making out but they stop when they hear Billy, turning matching disinterested looks on him. 'Was it you?'

Tommy shrugs. 'So what if it was?'

'So, you're gonna clean it off before anyone sees it,' Billy says, anger spiking in his veins. 

'What? Don't like it?' Tommy says, with a smirk. Billy itches to punch it clean off his face. He's been waiting for an excuse to do it for weeks. It's not like he and Tommy were ever close. Tommy latched onto Billy when he arrived and Billy was happy to have hangers on. Can't be a king without followers, right? But they've drifted apart while Billy and Steve have been drifting closer. If Billy is being honest with himself, it's what he's wanted from the beginning.

'Just wash it off,' Billy says, voice low. He avoids looking at the dripping red words on the wall. They make him feel sick. And if he sees them, again, he will punch Tommy. He turns to walk away.

'Sorry. Didn't realise I'd insulted your _boyfriend_ ,' Tommy says, goading. 

Billy takes the bait. He wheels around and grabs fistfuls of Tommy's shirt, shoving him against the wall. 'What does that mean?'

'I saw you,' Tommy says, lip curling, 'at the party.'

Billy doesn't have to ask what Tommy means, again. He can still feel Steve's lips against his. Still remembers that horrified look on Steve's face when he had jerked away, apologising, moments after leaning in and kissing Billy. Billy had told Steve it was fine, Steve was wasted, nothing happened, even as longing yawned open within him. They could forget all about it, he'd said. Not that Billy ever would.

'You didn't see anything. Got it?' Billy shoves Tommy harder, still, and adds, 'And you _don't_ talk shit about my friends.'

'Friend, huh? Maybe you should be more careful who you make friends with.'

Billy looks Tommy square in the eye and says, 'Yeah, I should.' 

He lets Tommy go, pushing him back as he releases him, but Tommy doesn't seem to know to quit when he's ahead. 'Should've known you were a fag, too,' he spits.

Billy slugs Tommy across the jaw. God, it feels good. Tommy hits back, blood welling in Billy's mouth, hot and sweet. Billy hits him, again. Harder, this time. Tommy loses his balance and goes down. Carol is screaming. But Billy doesn't stop. There is blood smeared on his fists. The sound of knuckles cracking against bone and the drumming of his pulse in his ears. The scent of trash and sweat, sour, fills his nose. 

'Billy, stop,' Carol pleads from somewhere nearby.

And he does, but it isn't because of Carol. It's when he thinks of all those months ago, how he'd hit Steve like this, how maybe Steve wouldn't want him to hurt anyone else so badly, that he finally stops. He tilts to his feet, leaves Tommy groaning on the ground. Carol rushes to him. Billy spits blood. 

'Now clean it off before anyone else sees it,' Billy says waving a hand at the wall. 'And if Harrington hears about it, I swear, I will end you.'

'Too late,' comes Steve's voice from behind Billy. He's staring up at the wall where Tommy had spray painted 'Steve Harrington is a fag' in bold red letters. His face is pale in the shadowed light of the alley. 'Your lettering's improved,' he says, in Tommy's direction, voice all wrong.

Carol takes the opportunity to pull Tommy to his feet, scrambling down the alley. Billy starts to go after them but Steve catches his wrist. 

'Don't,' he says. 'Just let them go.'

'Your boyfriend's a psycho!' Carol yells at Steve as she pulls a limping Tommy along with her.

Billy makes another aborted move toward them, but Steve's hold on his wrist keeps him in place. He turns back to Steve. His stomach churns and his heart is racing. Partly from adrenaline, partly just from seeing Steve.

'Did you tell him?' Steve's expression is guarded but his cheeks are flushed. His voice is low, clipped.

'No,' Billy says, voice hoarse. 'He saw...'

Steve nods, lips pressed together. He has his arms hugged around his waist. He's not looking at Billy. 'Sorry.'

Billy's ears are ringing. 'What for?'

'What do you think?' Steve says, a little desperate. He runs a hand through his hair. 'And now...if Tommy knows. Everyone else will. They'll think _you_...'

'Tommy won't say anything,' Billy says.

Steve sucks in a breath and looks back at the wall. 'And this?'

'We'll wash it off.'

Steve swallows. 'Not worried about being tainted by association if anyone sees us?'

And the thing is, Billy is, in a way. Is always scared his dad will hear something like this about him. But Tommy didn't write 'Billy Hargrove is a fag' on the wall and it wasn't Billy who'd put himself on the line and kissed Steve, last night. So, he says, 'I don't give a shit what the people in this town think about me.'

When Steve's shoulders relax he knows he's said the right thing for once in his life.  


__

'Your hand OK? Looks like you hit it pretty hard on Tommy's face,' Steve says as he scours the wall. The cuff of his sweater is damp and his waistband rides up, revealing the dimples in the small of his back.

Billy feels warm. He glances at his hand—his knuckles are red from broken capillaries and spray paint—and shrugs. 'Yeah, it's fine.'

'Guess I should thank you,' Steve says, 'for defending my honour, or whatever.' 

Billy huffs. 'Don't mention it.' He bumps his shoulder against Steve's and keeps scrubbing at the red paint.

'You are OK, though?' Steve asks but Billy thinks he might really be asking 'Are _we_ OK?' so Billy winks and says, 'Peachy.'

The way Steve smiles at that, almost laughing, knocks something loose in Billy's chest.

When they're finished they sit in the alley, swapping a cigarette between them. The wall is cold at Billy's back. His hands ache from punching Tommy, and they smell like paint stripper. But it's the memory of Steve kissing him, then pulling away, that makes them shake. He still doesn't know if Steve had freaked out because he hadn't meant to kiss Billy or because he didn't think Billy would want to kiss him back. 

Billy flicks the end of the cigarette and takes a chance. 'You didn't have to apologise,' he says, not looking at Steve, 'for kissing me.'

'Oh?'

There's so much packed into that one syllable that Billy has to suck in a long breath before he says, 'Unless you didn't mean it.' He glances sidelong at Steve.

Steve is looking at Billy, one hand wrapped around his ankle, chin resting on his knee. He chews on his lip. 'I meant it.'

'Good,' Billy says.

'OK.' Steve's smiling, and it makes Billy's stomach do this weird, complicated somersault. It feels nice, though. Steve dips his eyes. 'Does that mean...'

Billy nods and Steve's smile widens. If he could, he would kiss Steve right here and now. But he can't, so he lets his knee rest against Steve's, instead, revelling in the warmth of him.

'You know, you should probably put some ice on your lip,' Steve says.

Billy frowns and is about to say it's too late, now, he's waited too long when Steve adds, 'I've got some ice at my house.'

It's the most transparent line Billy has heard but he says, 'Yeah. That's a good idea,' and crushes the cigarette against the wall. He lets Steve lead him from the alley, and back to his car, with the promise of more than ice for a busted lip hanging between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank-you for reading! :) Feel free to come find me on tumblr [@gothyringwald](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/) and flail/yell/cry with me about these two. Or anything.
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's the fic post on tumblr.](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/173368236115/13-2nd-drabble-list-harringrove-ps-youre)
> 
>  
> 
> And please feel free to point out any spelling mistakes.


End file.
